Attachments
by rumbarrelsandships
Summary: It's 1999. the turn of the millennia. Lucas Friar has been given the job of monitoring the staff email for the Courier newspaper to make sure they comply with the policy, but slowly he falls in love with the friendship that Riley Matthews-Minkus and Maya Hart share and more and more infatuated with the estranged Maya Hart. Based on the Rainbow Rowell book 'Attachments' Lucaya AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, yes I know I've been gone for literally forever. I've had a massive creative block and have found it really hard to write atm, but hopefully now that summer is fully underway I'll have more inspiration and have time to write more stuff, I plan on putting up the second chapter to this real soon as I've got half of it written so if not today, this will be updated this week. This was more of an introduction to Riley and Maya's friendship so Lucas will be more focused on in the next chapter. hope you enjoy!**

* * *

 **From: Riley Matthew-Minkus**

 **To: Maya P Hart**

 **Sent: Wed, 08/18/1999 9:12 AM**

 **Subject: Where the hell are you?**

Seriously Maya, would it cause you any trouble to get your ass here before noon? I'm sitting here alone in this chair that makes my skirt ride up my butt while creepy Andy from Accounting not-so-subtly is ogling my boobs while you, if I know you at all from the twelve years of our friendship, have probably just woken up from choking on your own drool and are sat in your kitchen eating honey oatmeal watching Judge Judy. And I have to say I am not appreciating Andy's glasses being illuminated by the reflection of the bright light of a porn website while slowly looking down me, and who's not there to distract me? YOU.

I swear to God, if you don't email me as soon as you get in here, I'll march over to Printing Design myself and take those Cosmo magazines from your cold, dead hands.

 **From Maya P Hart**

 **To: Riley Matthew-Minkus**

 **Sent: Wed, 08/18/1999 11:32 AM**

 **RE: Where the hell are you?**

Okay you better feel special, I'm putting you before Cosmo, but make it quick, they've got an exclusive 6 page spread with Gwyneth Paltrow plus I'm having a debate with Derek whether Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake are going to last or if it's just for PR. (HINT: he thinks it's true love) Anyway, just give Andy the death stare if he looks at you again or you know, put a sweater on you one heck of a doll.

 **From: Riley Matthew-Minkus**

 **To: Maya P Hart**

 **Sent: Wed, 08/18/1999 11:46 AM**

 **RE: Where the hell are you?**

I think I'm pregnant.

 **From: Maya P Hart**

 **To: Riley Matthew-Minkus**

 **Sent: Wed, 08/18/1999 11:49 AM**

 **RE: Where the hell are you?**

Wait, for real? Why?

 **From: Riley Matthew-Minkus**

 **To: Maya P Hart**

 **Sent: Wed, 08/18/1999 11:53 AM**

 **RE: Where the hell are you?**

I went out last Saturday and had three drinks.

 **From: Maya P Hart**

 **To: Riley Matthew-Minkus**

 **Sent: Wed, 08/18/1999 11:56 AM**

 **RE: Where the hell are you?**

Riley, do we need to have the birds and the bees talk again?

 **From: Riley Matthew-Minkus**

 **To: Maya P Hart**

 **Sent: Wed, 08/18/1999 11:58 AM**

 **RE: Where the hell are you?**

Ha.

 **From: Maya P Hart**

 **To: Riley Matthew-Minkus**

 **Sent: Wed, 08/18/1999 11:59 AM**

 **RE: Where the hell are you?**

No, seriously why do you think you're pregnant?

 **From: Riley Matthew-Minkus**

 **To: Maya P Hart**

 **Sent: Wed, 08/18/1999 12:03 PM**

 **RE: Where the hell are you?**

I swear even if I have one drink I start to feel pregnant. I think it's because I barely ever drink in the first place and the one time I decide I want to loosen up, I get pregnant. Oh god...for the three damn hours I went out I get stuck with a fetal alcoholic for 18+ years, probably double that because they'll need me to sneak out and get the booze for them.

 **From: Maya P Hart**

 **To: Riley Matthew-Minkus**

 **Sent: Wed, 08/18/1999 12:07 PM**

 **RE: Where the hell are you?**

Is that actually what they're called, fetal alcoholics?

 **From: Riley Matthew-Minkus**

 **To: Maya P Hart**

 **Sent: Wed, 08/18/1999 12:11 PM**

 **RE: Where the hell are you?**

its ears will be blue, eyes too far apart and all the middle aged white suburban moms named Sandra will stare at me and whisper to their children named Zucchini and McKarty that I couldn't even part with a bottle of Zambooki for 9 months.

 **From: Maya P Hart**

 **To: Riley Matthew-Minkus**

 **Sent: Wed, 08/18/1999 12:12 PM**

 **RE: Where the hell are you?**

You will be a middle aged white suburban mom, Riley. And since when did you drink Zambooki?

 **From: Riley Matthew-Minkus**

 **To: Maya P Hart**

 **Sent: Wed, 08/18/1999 12:13 PM**

 **RE: Where the hell are you?**

I'll have to hold it's little hand on the way to the AA meetings and feed it Brandy instead of milk.

 **From: Maya P Hart**

 **To: Riley Matthew-Minkus**

 **Sent: Wed, 08/18/1999 12:15 PM**

 **RE: Where the hell are you?**

Don't think that's how it works babe, aren't you being just a tad dramatic?

 **From: Riley Matthew-Minkus**

 **To: Maya P Hart**

 **Sent: Wed, 08/18/1999 12:17 PM**

 **RE: Where the hell are you?**

This feels different Maya, I feel a presence in my womb.

 **From: Maya P Hart**

 **To: Riley Matthew-Minkus**

 **Sent: Wed, 08/18/1999 12:18 PM**

 **RE: Where the hell are you?**

I dare you to call Ask-A-Nurse and say you feel a presence in your womb. Anyway, even if you do end up birthing a child with blue ears and a horn sticking out it's back, won't Farkle still be obsessed with it?

 **From: Riley Matthew-Minkus**

 **To: Maya P Hart**

 **Sent: Wed, 08/18/1999 12:21 PM**

 **RE: Where the hell are you?**

Ugh, probably, I don't know why he does it.

 **From: Maya P Hart**

 **To: Riley Matthew-Minkus**

 **Sent: Wed, 08/18/1999 12:22 PM**

 **RE: Where the hell are you?**

Won't it be good for your relationship though? Having a baby I mean.

 **From: Riley Matthew-Minkus**

 **To: Maya P Hart**

 **Sent: Wed, 08/18/1999 12:25 PM**

 **RE: Where the hell are you?**

Well let's see, I give birth to a beautiful child but I never see them because they spend all their waking hours with a mini-mother-slave wage who they think is their actual mother, Farkle and I try to keep the romantic aspect of our marriage alive in our late thirties, by eating dinner while the baby is asleep but we're both tired. _all. the. time._ so instead of having an actual conversation I fall asleep next to my plate of pasta when he begins to tell me about his day and he's more than happy just to read a book instead. He eats his pasta in silence while fantasizing about the curvy new pre-school teacher who wears a nude pencil skirt and tights that shimmy up her thighs when she sits down on a chair or jumps. It ends in tragedy.

 **From: Maya P Hart**

 **To: Riley Matthew-Minkus**

 **Sent: Wed, 08/18/1999 12:27 PM**

 **RE: Where the hell are you?**

Well, what does he think? (About the ominous "presence" in your womb, not the pre-school teacher)

 **From: Riley Matthew-Minkus**

 **To: Maya P Hart**

 **Sent: Wed, 08/18/1999 12:28 PM**

 **RE: Where the hell are you?**

He thinks I should take a pregnancy test to be sure.

 **From: Maya P Hart**

 **To: Riley Matthew-Minkus**

 **Sent: Wed, 08/18/1999 12:31 PM**

 **RE: Where the hell are you?**

Good man, I knew I liked him for a reason.

 **From: Riley Matthew-Minkus**

 **To: Maya P Hart**

 **Sent: Wed, 08/18/1999 12:32 PM**

 **RE: Where the hell are you?**

Creepy Andy is still staring!

 **From: Maya P Hart**

 **To: Riley Matthew-Minkus**

 **Sent: Wed, 08/18/1999 12:31 PM**

 **RE: Where the hell are you?**

 _Put. on. a. sweater._


	2. Chapter 2

**yay me! I actually updated something for once instead of saying I will but then never actually doing it. This is more of an introduction to Lucas's character, and there should be another Riley/Maya chapter after this (coming soon!) before Lucas & Maya's storylines actually come face to face. Has everyone heard On Purpose? So good! And those peybrina pictures that peyton's mom posted on twitter slayed me but also gave me life. Idk. I hope you enjoy this!**

* * *

"You look like a piece of shit."

"You're too kind to me mom" Lucas retorted, but he'd have to take her word as gospel as he hadn't actually looked in the mirror today yet. Or the day before that. Shit. He rubbed his eyes to try and shrug the fatigue off and ran his fingers through his matted hair, his fingers getting stuck in knots while trying to smooth it down…or something at least slightly presentable.

He didn't get why his mother was so obsessed with his current state, she knew his circumstances regarding work and yet refused to believe any differently from what she thought to be true. He probably shouldn't have let his hair air-dry when he got out of the shower yesterday afternoon.

"Lucas, I'm being serious here, it's one o'clock in the afternoon and what have you done with the day? Slept until now!"

He gave an exasperated sigh and gave a defeated look deflected at his mother's annoyed one.

"Mom, you know I don't get out of work until two am"

I mean, really? Was he just supposed to be some kind of superhuman being that never needed sleep. And besides…he did things when he woke up. Watched TV, went for walks...once every few weeks.

She frowned at him, her creased brow overcoming her features but didn't say anything more on the matter. She handed him a wooden spoon and pointed towards the stewing pot currently on the stove, "Stir those runner beans." She turned to her latest baking project and turns on the electric mixer and half shouts over the whirring noise," Lucas you can't be annoyed at me for being worried about you, you're barely doing anything these days, you're more like a slug on my leaf chewing away at my bills without saying sorry or doing something about it." She continued, looking more and more weary as she slumped her shoulders.

Lucas felt bad, he hadn't wanted to upset his mom even further, he was just frustrated with her lack of support in his recent endeavors and had taken most of the brunt out on her. He looked up at her and saw her eyes catch in the sunlight reflecting off of the glass window in front of her, her skin looked so youthful and he had a sudden itch to go up and hug her, after all she did provide for him and care for him very much. He moved to speak and opened his mouth, but his mother glanced at him and gave him a saddened look, and that shut him up without another word. He stood up from the old leather chair with stuffing falling out of it at the seams and crept his way up the staircase into his bedroom, into solidarity. He heard his mother downstairs string profound curse words into a sentence and a few minutes later smelt the wafting scenting of burnt, caramelized beans and he felt what his mother had felt towards him.

A bitter taste on the tip of his tongue.

When Lucas had previously worked in the local McDonald's when he was in college, the oil from the fries, the Big Macs, the chicken burgers, whatever, would get everywhere. It would get in every single crevice and pore on Lucas's body and it took forever to get the smell out from scrubbing at his skin in the shower and getting the tiny amounts of tomato sauce out from under his fingernails. The stench never truly got off of his skin however, he was just left with a thin film of grease that he would later sweat into his clothes at school. He hated the job all throughout the entire time he had it, but it was a way to help pay off the bills that his mom struggled with. This job was none so different, but rather instead of oil on his fingertips, it was ink. Black ink. Because he was the first switchover from the day shift to the night, Lucas had to carry the new copies of _The Courier_ straight from the Printing department and carry them to the night log department where they would check for any errors before the copies were shipped out for the following morning. It wasn't a bad thing, as Lucas was more than big enough to carry them and he was almost certain that nobody in either sections of the workplace recognized him.

As he sat down at Anne's desk, the one he was occupying for the night (she had asked him to stop leaving Danish pastry crumbs on her seat and he'd forgotten once again) he remembered the first time he had spoken to Ben, his boss about the job opening. He'd sluggishly sat down at the table in their small square kitchen and was eating the homemade frittata his mom made the night before. She handed him that day's newspaper and looked through her recipe books meticulously, he had skipped the sports and politics section as neither subjects were topics he was particularly interested in and reached the advertisement section, and right there in the middle of the page in big bold print; _'The Courier, full time opportunity for Internet security officer. $40k+ per annum, health and dental covered'_

Least to say, his mother was not pleased when he applied for the job.

 _"_ _I don't understand what you can do in that place that can't be done in daylight! It's not right Lucas, how can people express themselves in a place where they know you'll just be reading it anyway? It's like someone's lurking in their thoughts." She said, a clear look of dread and disappointment in the glint of her eyes_.

 _"_ _Mom, the point is I'm not in their thoughts, I'm in their computers, rather in the company's computers, it's like I'm not supposed to be there and besides everyone….everyone knows it's happening." He gave a disgruntled sigh and gave up, it was useless trying to explain it to her, she had never actually used a computer in the first place._

 _She looked up from her book and snapped it closed with finality, "Remember when we had that mailman, Mr. Roe? Remember how he'd always read our mail and postcards? And he'd always had that holier-than-thou attitude whenever he came by the house and made those knowing comments like; 'So I see your daughter is having a great time in South Carolina' or 'I've always wanted to see the Grand Canyon myself.'I understand being a mailman is a very repetitive job, but he was always proud of it and he gloated whenever he walked by, I'm pretty sure Mrs. Laude down the street doesn't speak to us because he told her I subscribe to Me magazine."_

 _He frowned to himself, "It's not like that, I only ever read their messages if they're flagged for something, I don't just creep around on people's messages for my own enjoyment."_

 _His mother wasn't listening._

Lucas actually liked being called up to the newsroom, be it for a repair or to take something heavy to the break room. It had long sleek windows side by side for a wall where you could see the skyline in the distance and the stars shining brightly above it, the room was never completely empty either, with the late night editors usually in a clump in the corner of the room, although some of them dispersed throughout the room. There were two young and pretty girls sitting on Lucas's left as he got the fresh prints, and he decided that _yes,_ you could be young and model-like in real life. As he turned back to the room where Anne's desk was, he wondered if the people working night shifts with him went on dates during the day.


End file.
